


Little Boy Lost

by WhoIsWren



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Bad Parenting, Dragon's Edge (How to Train Your Dragon), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic Friendship, Episode Tag, Episode: s04e04 Not Lout, Episode: s06e06 Not Lout, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Monstrous Nightmare - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Platonic Soulmates, Self Confidence Issues, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 02:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14486832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoIsWren/pseuds/WhoIsWren
Summary: Snotlout crashes and burns, implodes under the pressure his father puts on him and Hookfang is left to pick up the pieces.





	Little Boy Lost

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously don't like Spitelout, he is a horrible and verbally abusive father in my opinion. And Snotlout has turned out to be one of my favourite characters. 
> 
> Warnings: the implied child abuse and the anxiety attack are super duper mild but just in case, warning.

Snotlout had been acting weird all day, ever since they left the party on Berk. He’d been twitchy and jumpy the whole flight back and even the next day he was just as tense, muttering under his breath about greatness and a golden sheep.

It didn’t sit well with Hookfang.

There were not many that knew of the softer side to Snotlout, the fragile boy underneath the bluster. That boy is someone Hookfang protects above all else. Most times it’s not physical dangers he has to protect that boy from though.

Often times it’s words that cause the most damage, whether spoken aloud by someone trusted or whispered inside his own mind. Words can be far more deadly than any battle axe.

For days Snotlout walks around The Edge tense and stressed. His knuckles are constantly clenched, his eyes jumping from one person to another, and his scent turns acidic with the stench of anxiety.  

There was only one thing in or outside the archipelago that could make Snotlout that anxious.

It was something Hookfang hated more than eels, more than other people, more than dragon hunters.

 _Spitelout,_ the brute that dared to call himself a father.

At first, Hookfang wanted to like to the man simply because Snotlout obviously worshipped his father. It only took a few days for Hookfang to notice what a horrible father Spitelout was. He’d never hit Snotlout, never abused him in any noticeable way, but his words cut deeper than any sword.

Every day something was said, whether intentionally or not, and every time Snotlout reacted as if hit with a bludgeon. Perhaps a bludgeon would have hurt less.

It was the little things, little jabs here and there, a stray comment or observation. All of it added up over time. Every dismissal or disapproval out of Spitelout’s mouth had Snotlout sinking further and further, had his smile slipping and his shoulders drooping. Of course, Snotlout being Snotlout always picked himself back up and brushed off the comments with a foul joke or fake confidence but his eyes gave him away.

In his deep eyes was a little boy that desperately wanted his father’s approval, a boy that believed every bad thing his father ever said, and a boy who believed he was nothing. That boy inside Snotlout was slowly dying, day by day, word by word.

Hookfang tried to compensate, tried to show Snotlout how much he was loved and that he didn’t need his father to have a good life. But there was a pull inside Snotlout that forced him to always think _‘what would Spitelout do?’_ and act accordingly.

The child Spitelout wanted was not who Snotlout was as a person, and that was the biggest problem they had. Hookfang loved who Snotlout was and despised the man Spitelout wanted him to be, but no amount of love could overpower the twisted comments Spitelout spat.

Whatever Spitelout had said this time stuck with Snotlout and burrowed deep within his psyche. Snotlout was making all the wrong choices, not thinking clearly, and saying some truly awful things – more so than usual.

Before his very eyes Snotlout was turning into Spitelout and there was nothing Hookfang could do to stop it. It wasn’t that he didn’t try, he growled, he flamed up, he flicked Snotlout across their hut, but nothing worked. No amount of distraction or silly games shook Snotlout free of his father’s influence. He was determined, a man on a mission to prove himself to someone who didn’t deserve it.

If he couldn’t help Snotlout break free of his father’s hold then he would be there to support his human. It wasn’t admitting defeat – a Monstrous Nightmare would never surrender – he was protecting Snotlout as best he could. Since the day they first rode together Hookfang and Snotlout formed an unbreakable bond, one that not even abusive fathers could break. Whether Hookfang liked this new Snotlout or not, he’d be there for his human.

So, he listened and he followed, he went along with the training exercise despite a few obvious flaws in the plan. No matter the small tweaks he would have made, Hookfang was still proud of Snotlout for taking the lead. He knew what an amazing leader Snotlout could be, he’d seen it several times already, he just wished Snotlout could see his own worth.

The practice run was going along smoothly until he was jerked side to side suddenly. Snotlout was pulling him this way and that, up and down, side to side. They were flying all over the place and there was only so much Hookfang could do when Snotlout was pulling on his horns. He squawked at Snotlout but the man was muttering to himself and swaying side to side.

Hookfang was panicking, what was wrong with Snotlout?

They had landed in a heap on the dusty ground, the practice run a failure. Snotlout hadn’t said a word to anyone; he just turned and walked back towards their hut. Hookfang rushed to keep up with him, leaving the other riders in a haze of confusion behind them. He crooned and nudged his head into Snotlout but the boy kept walking as if he wasn’t even there.

Hookfang was officially worried.

On their long walk back to their hut Snotlout never said a word or lifted his head from where he was staring at the ground. Hookfang had never seen his human act so lifeless, so unlike himself. Snotlout was never quiet; usually he was the loudest in a room and the one that captured everyone’s attention. This silent, listless, Snotlout was not the man Hookfang bonded with.

When they were safe inside their hut and Snotlout had shut the large door behind them he stood in the middle of their hut. For several moments that’s all he did, just stood there with his head lowered not making a single sound. Hookfang was about to nudge him and force his human to tell him what was wrong when it happened.

A sob, so quiet yet utterly deafening, echoed throughout the hut.

Hookfang jerked back in surprise before springing into action. He wrapped his tail fully around his human then twisted so his body encased Snotlout as well. Extending his wings Hookfang cocooned them both underneath their mass and placed his head on top of Snotlout’s.

Buried beneath the comfort of the Monstrous Nightmare, Snotlout wept.

It was hard and it was painful, each sob tore through his stout body. He heaved and he shook, he wailed and he yelled. Within the safety of his dragon Snotlout let go of everything. He released his failures, his fears, and his doubts. He cried for his lost childhood, his shattered self-esteem, and his sense of worth. He screamed at his cruel father, at the debilitating comments, and at his treacherous inner voice.

Snotlout cried like he never has before, safe beneath Hookfang’s wings and knowing no one could hear his pain. With Hookfang he didn’t need to pretend to be strong or brave, he could just be Snotlout. And right now, Snotlout needed to be weak and afraid.

For hours the two stayed wrapped around each other as the lost and lonely boy cried 19 years worth of tears. Long after there were no more tears left to shed the two remained embraced, neither willing to separate.

Hookfang crooned and nuzzled, letting Snotlout know he was there, that he would _always_ be there and that his human was never alone. Hookfang poured all his love and devotion into Snotlout, trying to make the man see that he didn’t need to be anything other than himself to be loved and respected.

Snotlout turned his head slightly to properly look at Hookfang. His eyes were red and puffy, dried tears streaked his face and he looked so fragile in that moment that Hookfang was afraid he’d shatter into a million pieces. Snotlout sniffed and gave Hookfang one of his small yet genuine smiles.

“Thanks Hookfang,” he whispered before burrowing back into the safety of Hookfang’s tail.

Hookfang’s chest swells with love and pride. He may not be whole and happy just yet, but Snotlout will get there in time and Hookfang will be by his side every step of the way.

The next time he sees Spitelout though he’s setting the man’s tunic on fire. No one hurts his Snotlout.

**Author's Note:**

> For Camp NaNo I'm writing 20 short fics over several different fandoms, this is number 20!!!!!! Yay I'm done! WooHoo!  
> [My Tumblr](http://www.nothing-personal-my-dear.tumblr.com)


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